I was walking home around 3am last night, all bundled up against the cold of “it’s officially winter” and really wishing that I had the foresight to purchase gloves yesterday and I happened to glance in the window of the Communist Daughter – this is what I saw:

The bartender was just about to start playing his trumpet for a lady sitting at the bar, who was leaning back, laughing in the candlelight. Behind her, a table full of people appeared to be engrossed in conversation, all reaching around and grabbing each other by the arm, trying to get each other’s attention. The tallest man at the table was yelling and pointing over-top of his friend’s heads at the bartender.

It looked so warm and happy inside that I momentarily forgot that I was pretty cold out, and it sucked the pending curses for winter that were queuing for utterance right out of my mind.